The Coat in the Corner

On a long, narrow road that lead out of town

There stands and old public house, the old Rose and Crown

Used by many for many a year

For the genial conversation the Whisky and Beer

Old Mavis the barmaid now long past her best

Still has a great smile and rapport with each guest

Jim Inchcliff, the Landlord has seen them all come and go

Those who for years had struggled through the deep winter Snow

Just to partake a Real Ale and an old stale Pork Pie

That seemed to have been on the bar for many a blink of an eye

Old Rover, Jim’s dog, must be twenty years old or more

Who hardy ever moved seemed stuck to the floor

The old sign creaked when the strong wind did blow

What with that and the noise from the resident Black Crow

Who lived in the eaves and had nested there for years

And had seen all the comes and goings, the laughter and tears

But the strangest situation that no one could fathom out

Was in the old Snug Bar, amongst the Brown Ale and Stout

For over in the corner was an old khaki army coat

That belonged to old Barney the right reverend Stoat

Who had been Vicar of the Parish for over year’s five score and ten

Who disappeared suddenly one dark stormy night?

In the wind and the hail that gave everyone a fright

 

Such was its ferocity with trees falling down

Making it impossible to drive cars in or out of town

The rain was lashing, river swelled up, broke its banks

Flowing freely like water escaping from tanks

Causing a local mine to capsize underground trapping men deep below

Were they alive or dead, it was hard to know

Rescue teams worked all through the night and next day

Saving many as they could, though a few perished away

Now old Barney may have been the town vicar but unbeknown to all

Was in fact a war hero in both wars you know a man who stood tall

No stranger to danger so rushed to the Miners aid

To offer what assistance he could while the wives wept and prayed

No one realised that he had gone down with the rescue teams

As the water rushed in bringing down the large heavy beams

That propped up the pit face, to keep them safe from harm

But now was disintegrating causing great alarm

However, the rescue was completed and thankfully everyone survived

Or so everyone thought until they realised one had died

The poor vicar had given his life to help those in need

And no one ever forgot the Reverends brave deed

That is why the old coat hangs in pride of place

Over in the corner by the big fireplace

Nobody has wanted to remove it as a mark of respect for one who died

Trying to save others whose name was always talked about with pride

 

So if you travel to Old Romney a town of note

Always remember, never to remove that old coat

From that bar where it’s been for many a year

For it’s a sign to others of what unselfish, real heroes are so just shed a tear